


Dancing Exposé

by Dirty_Corza



Series: The Dancing Exposés [1]
Category: Dirty Dancing (1987), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Job, Exhibitionism, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, crossover?, nine year olds shouldn't know about sex, teenagers seduce their dancing instructors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirty_Corza/pseuds/Dirty_Corza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft gets what he wants. Based [loosely] off of Dirty Dancing.</p><p>Pairing is ages 16 and 22, which is why there's a warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Exposé

Mycroft was unsure of what to do when he got to the summer camp. “Be social with people your own age!” had been his mother’s plea, and so he would try. But really, they were all so droll. Teenagers. None of them could do more than talk about parties, or who was dating who, and it was so ordinary, so boring. No stimulating conversation to be had, he was sure.  
That was before he went to the first dancing lesson his mother had signed him up for. It was terribly droll indeed, but there was more to it than that. There weren’t enough people for everyone to be paired, so he was left with one of the instructors for a partner. Lestrade, they called him, a few years older than Mycroft, and an excellent dancer, even with the simple waltz they were learning. It was all Mycroft could do to follow along, trying not to outright stare at the other man.  
That day, the other man was all Mycroft could think about. He was so different. Spiked hair, jeans, leather jacket, everything that Mycroft wasn’t. But the way he danced, so graceful. Unlike anything Mycroft had ever seen before. Even Sherlock had noticed how distracted he was, and even decided to try and figure out why his big brother was staring off into space instead of playing checkers with him. “You look… Like people, when they’re thinking about touching someone’s naughty places.”  
Mycroft gave a small sigh, cheeks flushing. “Sherlock. You’re only 9. You aren’t supposed to know about things like that.” His little brother looked at him with wide eyes. “You’re being normal, Mycroft. Acting like a normal teenager.” He got a thoughtful expression as Mycroft made a move and he had to study the game once more. “Your checkers is suffering. What’s she look like? Will you let me meet her? She must be pretty.” Mycroft gave a noncommittal hum, not willing to discourage that line.  
That night at dinner, Mycroft watched carefully for Lestrade, much to the amusement of Anthea, the only person he knew here, other than Sherlock. “You’ve got a crush on the dance instructor, haven’t you? He is dishy. But he won’t be at dinner, he never is.” He felt his face flushing as he took a few more small bites of his food. “And how do you know this?” She smiled. “I saw the signs of you getting interested, and so I decided to find out information for you, of course.”  
Mycroft gave her a smile. “Well, enough teasing. What did you find out? Other than his not eating dinner here.” She grinned, and he was reminded ever so strongly of a cat playing with a mouse. “He only ever dances with male partners, quite scandalous I must say, never interacts with camp attendees, and never, ever dances with anyone new.” She gave him a wink at that. “Which means he thinks you’re dishy, too, or he never would have been your partner.”  
“Very well,” he said, putting his half eaten meal to the side. “You’ve got plans for me. What are they?” he leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingertips pressed together before him, and she mirrored his action. “Every night, the staff stay up late dancing. I’ll get you in, and you can ask him for private lessons.” The way she said it made Mycroft think of all the filthy things that could be done in private, where no one could see. “And Sherlock?” he had to ask about his brother’s care.  
“I’ll keep an eye on him, no worries. I found some rat bones he should have fun putting back together.” she spoke with a sparkle in her eyes, and Mycroft was overwhelmed with gratefulness. He leaned forward, brushing lips against her cheek, smirking at the blush it brought to them. “I don’t deserve you, darling. The best right hand woman a man could ask for.” “Yes, well, now it’s time for you to go get ready. As delicious as you are in your suits, I set some jeans out for you tonight.”  
With a nod, he stood, still grinning. “You’re an angel.” With that he hurried off to get changed, headless of her knowing grin as she got up and followed much slower. The jeans were a tight fit, such a new different sensation from the trousers he usually wore. And then there was the shirt. She hadn’t told him she had picked out a shirt for him as well, but he approved of her choice. A nice emerald green, and pleasantly tight.  
Looking in the mirror, he was surprised at the combination, dark jeans with the dark shirt, making him stand out in a way that said “proper” without being “stuffy”. Except… Biting his lip, he undid the top two buttons on his shirt, gasping at the result. He looked attractive, in a very conventional sense. Maybe, just maybe he would be able to pull this off, a sixteen year old seducing a twenty two year old dancing instructor, with all the experience he didn’t have.  
Anthea was waiting when he came out, nodding appreciatively at what she saw “Good. Very good. He won’t be able to keep his hands off you! But first.” She took a bottle out of her purse, squirting some gel into her hand before running her fingers through his hair, spiking it. “Perfect. Now come on!” She turned, leading the way through the dimly lit grounds, heading unerringly to the clubhouse from which they could hear the light sounds of The Clash. Light only because they weren’t there yet.  
Anthea led the way with ease, pushing through the crowd by the door, Mycroft followed a bit more timidly. He wasn’t used to this, to parties that didn’t include foreign dignitaries and their daughters he was supposed to try and befriend. But there, in the middle of the room, was Lestrade, dancing by himself, body moving to the music with such abandon it took Mycroft’s breath away. He didn’t even notice when Anthea took the opportunity to slip out with a couple, both getting handsy with her.  
As Mycroft took a step toward Lestrade, everyone in the room hushed, staring at the young man who risked interrupting the man dancing. Lestrade turned, surprise and arousal clear on his face as he licked his lips. Crooking one finger in Mycroft’s direction, he beckoned him toward him, swinging his hips as Mycroft stepped away from the throng of people to where he was, center of it all. He wasn’t touching him yet, though, Mycroft was, surprisingly enough, a bit intimidated by him.  
“Glad to see you here, handsome devil.” Lestrade’s heated whisper sent a shiver of ice down Mycroft’s spine, and he let out a small moan in response, without meaning to. Lestrade smirked at that, hands following the shiver, and ending up on his hips, pulling Mycroft those last few inches until they were touching, hips to hips, chest to chest, and his lips were right there by his ear, where Mycroft could feel his hot breath as he began to make them move together.  
Mycroft groaned, hands moving down the body against him of their own volition, running down the smooth back to grip the round ass. “Glad to see you like me being here.” he said, giving the ass a light squeeze as he pulled Lestrade closer, feeling the start of his arousal against his own. This time it was the older man who moaned, right into his ear, and then he decided that wasn’t enough, and Mycroft felt teeth gently nibbling his ear lobe which loosened another moan from his lips.  
“Bet you’ve never done this before.” there was the voice again, lulling Mycroft into a false sense of security even while the words put him on edge. “I wish you could see us, I know exactly what we look like, practically fucking with our clothes on, moving together so well to the music.” Mycroft would have whimpered when the voice quieted again, but Lestrade’s lips had managed to find their way to his own, and his hands were now slipped in Mycroft’s back jean pockets, groping shamelessly.  
Their lips were desperate, Mycroft hadn’t known he could feel this intensely about someone, need then so urgently. He ground his hips lewdly into the other’s, not minding at all when he heard, faintly, the sound of a wolf whistle from somewhere in the crowd. It didn’t bother him at all, he thought with a surprised gasp into Lestrade’s mouth, which allowed the other to deepen the kiss. In fact, Mycroft would almost hazard to say knowing others were enjoying the floor show made him want more.  
It wasn’t until Lestrade was moaning into his mouth, grinding against him hungrily that Mycroft realized his hands had slipped into the tight jeans the other was wearing, and were now massaging the toned flesh that was his ass. A flush of embarrassment -or arousal- lit his cheeks, but he didn’t stop, merely slowed down his exploration of the smooth skin, categorizing every slight difference in texture as his fingers explored.  
Lestrade pulled away, panting, looking at Mycroft through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. “You’ve got two options now handsome. We stay here and you suck me right where we are in the middle of this get together, or we leave right now and I give that virgin ass of yours a night you’ll never forget.” Mycroft groaned, leaning forward to press his lips hotly against Lestrade’s ear. “Why not both?” he smirked when Lestrade answered with a groan. “Yes, fuck yes, you manipulative bastard, suck me.”  
Mycroft obeyed that voice, falling to his knees right then and there. He didn’t care that they were surrounded by watching eyes, that everyone was watching [probably] as he undid Lestrade’s jeans, freeing his throbbing, erect cock. Mycroft licked his lips, mouth watering as he leaned forward, closing his eyes as his tongue explored the heated skin, moaning at the salty bitter taste in his mouth. He was hardly paying attention to anything else, just the feel of the hot cock against his lips.  
Then Lestrade’s hands were on the back of his head, urging him to take the cock in further, and he did, seeing just how far down his throat he could take the massive manhood. It stretched his jaw in such a pleasant way, an ache he knew would be pain in the morning, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to feel all of this. Lestrade was groaning and muttering above him as he started to move, fucking his mouth on the hard cock, taking it deeper with every thrust, and Mycroft couldn’t get enough.  
“Fuck yessss” Lestrade groaned, his hips starting to move as he held Mycroft’s face in place. With a jolt of desire, he realized what the older man was doing. He was fucking his mouth in time with the music. Mycroft moaned around the cock. It was such an arousing idea, a dancer using your mouth as their personal dance partner. A small part of him wondered if Lestrade had ever done this with anyone before. A larger part of him decided he really didn’t care.  
The song hit its climax, though Mycroft wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for the press of Lestrade’s hands forcing the cock completely into his mouth and down his throat as the man came. Then, and only then, did he risk glancing up, seeing with great pleasure the man staring down at him with awe and lust. “Holy fuck.” the other whispered as he swallowed down the spunk, and then proceeded to lick the softening cock clean. “Let’s go find someplace nice to take care of you, yeah?”  
With a shaky nod, Mycroft tucked the other cock back into it’s possessor’s jeans before letting himself be helped up. Then he was pulled into a hungry kiss, and he forgot all about why he had stood up, just that he wanted more of this mouth on him, everywhere. He knew the other could taste his own cum on his lips, but from the way he was being kissed, it seemed Lestrade liked it. And Mycroft realized with some slight surprise that he wanted to taste himself on Lestrade’s lips, too.  
Lestrade pulled back, panting. “Definitely going to my room now. Come on.” Still ignoring the presence of all those around them, the two hurried off hand in hand, Lestrade leading and Mycroft following. They came to a small bungalow, one room, with a large bed inside. It looked as though that was all there was, except for a record player on a nightstand. “Go sit on the bed.” He ordered with a kiss to Mycroft’s cheek, and Mycroft did, watching as Lestrade put on a record to set the mood.  
Once the music was playing softly in the background -it was all background now, just background and Lestrade- Lestrade came back to him, kneeling before him where he was sat on the bed. “You are wearing far too much clothing, handsome, I think I should help you get rid of it.” Then his fingers were undoing Mycroft’s shirt, and easing it off of his shoulders and down his arms, followed by those fingers at his fly, undoing the jeans, pushing them down to reveal tight pants.  
“These reveal everything…” Lestrade murmured, mouth hovering over the very obvious bulge, tongue just barely sneaking past well-kissed lips to dance over the cloth-covered-erection. But then he was pulling away -too soon, too soon- and pulling Mycroft up kissing him chastely before turning him around to face the bed as he pulled down those tight pants, ending kneeling behind him. “Talk about a room with a view…”  
Mycroft didn’t have time to answer before Lestrade was putting that tongue to good use a place he had never expected it. He groaned as the tip flitted around his tight hole, moaning when the slick muscle pressed its way between his parted cheeks. “More, fuck, more, please.” He groaned, pushing back as much as he could against the mouth caressing him, and the hands holding him open for it. “Maybe I will… But first, I never fuck someone’s ass until I know their name.”  
With that, Lestrade got up, going to the nightstand, leaving Mycroft panting, still bracing himself on the bed. “Mycroft- Mycroft Holmes.” Lestrade turned back, grinning again and flicking open a bottle of baby oil. “Well, Mycroft Mycroft Holmes. Let’s see if I can fuck you until you forget it, hm?” Wordlessly, Mycroft nodded, allowing himself to be pushed onto the bed. “Hands and knees, love.” Again, Mycroft nodded, following the instructions, shivering in antici- pation.  
Then Lestrade was kneeling behind him, and Mycroft could feel the heat radiating from his skin, so close to his own, and he could tell how the bed tilted him deliciously toward where he knew the other’s cock was. But then it was too much to try and think as a slicked up finger was pressing into him, and he could only groan as he tried to understand just what exactly it was he was feeling, so strange and wonderful, and he wanted more.  
Lestrade took his time with that first finger, easing into Mycroft’s tight ass gently. “God, you really are a virgin. I wouldn’t have known from that blow job you gave me. Fuck, that was fantastic, you are fantastic, Mycroft. Never forget it.” As he continued speaking, he let his finger rest, fully impaling Mycroft, as he searched inside him for his prostate. “Your mouth is magnificent, your ass is brilliant, your moans” his finger brushed over than spot, and Mycroft let out a loud moan.  
“God your moans are to die for.” A second finger was working it”s way in now, and Mycroft wondered how he would last with all this pleasure. It felt so good having those fingers up his ass, and his cock twitched just thinking about what would follow, a slicked up, hard cock that would fill him, and go far deeper than these fingers could. Lestrade noticed the twitch of the cock, staring at it as his fingers disappeared into the virgin hole.  
“Fuck, Lestrade, this feels so-” Mycroft ended with a louder moan, turning into a gasping almost-sob of pleasure as the fingers twisted in his ass and he felt something wet and hot enveloping his cock. “Holy fucking, mary-mother-of-jesus-fucking-christ” His lips were following their own orders now as he looked beneath him to see Lestrade’s mouth surrounding his cock. “Feels so bloody good, fuck, is this what I felt li- oh god, oh god-” Lestrade”s finger’s found his prostate again.  
Lestrade forced that first orgasm out of him, swallowing every drop of cum before returning to his upright position behind Mycroft. His fingers never left his ass, still stretching him, even though it felt like too much, too much. But when they started to move again, it was a needy moan that fell past Mycroft’s lips, a moan that begged to be taken, to be filled. It was answered by a third finger slipping in, stretching him with gentle strokes until he was once more begging for more.  
“Oh yes, I like that sound.” Lestrade said as he slicked up his cock with his free hand. “Moan for me, let me hear how much you want my cock in your ass.” “Fuck yes, please fuck~” Mycroft heard the words tumble off the tip of his tongue, barely registering what they were anymore, just knowing he needed something, anything, because his cock was starting to throb needily again, and if he didn’t have more, he didn’t know what he’d do.  
Finally, finally, at long last, the hot, slick cock was forcing its way into his ass. He could feel the burn, but Mycroft didn’t care. It felt too good to finally feel the stretch of being filled so completely. “Lestrade” he moaned, pressing back, forcing the cock in further, “Fuck me, Lestrade, make me fucking scream.” Lestrade bit back a groan as his hands went to grip the hips tightly, knowing there would be bruises there in the morning, and the thought only made him moan louder.  
Then he was moving in that tight ass, the sensations overwhelming them both with pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fuck yes!” Mycroft was screaming himself hoarse as Lestrade leaned over him, biting his shoulder hard. It wasn’t enough for either of them to cum, yet, but they could feel it building in them again, the intense pleasure of it all. Lestrade let his jaw relax just enough to whisper in Mycrofts ear, “Greg. I want you to scream Greg when you cum.” And then he bit his ear again, tugging on it.  
“Oh fucking Greg, fuck you Greg, fuck!” Mycroft was cuming again, and this time his cock hadn’t been touched at all, a thought that left him almost as breathless as the intense orgasm. Greg’s lips found their way to his back, biting and marking the skin as he continued to pound into his ass, marking all he could reach before his own orgasm overtook him and finally they collapsed together onto the bed, and he turned Mycroft to him, pulling him close, wrapping him in his arms.  
“That was fucking fantastic.” Greg murmured, kissing the top of Mycroft’s head lightly. “Mmm, yes. Delicious.” he looked up at him, eyes wide with something almost akin to fear. “We can do it again, right?” Greg grinned, kissing his lips softly before pulling a blanket up to cover them. “Of course. But not tonight. Sleep first.” That reassurance was all Mycroft needed before he snuggled close to the other, curling against his side and drifting off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for evawrites via her ask box on tumblr. Any choppiness is due to that. Please enjoy!


End file.
